It’s called a village because it is a village – or at least a cleverly marketed facsimile of one. Conceived as a deliberately orchestrated celebration of traditional Lebanese rural life – all strings of dried chillis, stone alcoves & pretend market stalls – Assaha is simultaneously twee & enchanting, & very carefully promoted by a Lebanese parent company with a social conscience. The food follows a comfortingly familiar pattern, from a harvest festival of raw vegetables & pickles to start things off, through assorted mezze plates (moutabal, garlic-scented labneh & hoummos) to shawarma & grills, plus fruit & baklava to finish. After a dazzling start, readers reckon some dishes now ‘miss the mark’; service also engenders mixed reviews, from ‘amenable’ to ‘the worst’. Expect juices, coffees & hookahs, but no booze.
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